


through the masquerade (you led me by the hand)

by c1vilwars



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Bucky Barnes Is a Good Bro, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Domestic Bucky Barnes/Sam Wilson, Drunk Sam Wilson, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Shenanigans, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Especially in the Second Chapter, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Sam Wilson Needs a Hug, Sharon Carter Is a Good Bro, everyone just needs a hug and maybe theyll get one, like a lot of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:29:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28084707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/c1vilwars/pseuds/c1vilwars
Summary: All his problems faded away with the beat drop in the music.Until he felt a cool hand wrap around his left upper arm.“Sam! What are you doing?”ORSam gets drunk and needs Bucky's help
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson
Comments: 1
Kudos: 57





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> after watching the falcon and the winter solider trailer and seeing the scene where they're in some weird neon, steampunk looking town, i knew i had to write a fic that took place there. so here it is!! as always, comments & kudos are always appreciated

Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson weren’t expecting to be walking into a nightclub whilst on a mission, but some quick hacking techniques to find the person they needed to interrogate had led them to the bustling, dark building. As both of them took glances at the small room, they gave one another a quick nod before casually walking in.

The two men observed the hundreds of people enjoying themselves, not a single thing looking out of place. There were groups of girls dancing on each other as men ogled them from across the room, your usual drunk dude who was yelling at everyone, the singles who hung out in the corner, and then you had the falcon and the winter soldier. But they blended in pretty well among all the girls in black dresses and boys in jeans and random colored t-shirts. Bucky had a pair of dusty old jeans with a black leather jacket that was zipped up, and Sam was in a fairly new pair of jeans with a grey sweatshirt. 

The shorter of the two men, Sam, trekked ahead the taller of the two, Bucky, who whipped his head around so he was facing the door they just entered from.

“You see something there cyborg?” Sam questioned Bucky, who rotated his head back forward so his eye contact with Sam was solidified.

“Nah, just checking my back ” Bucky responded, focused on a small device he held in his left hand. He shoved his way in front of Sam, not turning back to apologize.

* * *

Sam kept his head held high as he watched Bucky make his way to the dance floor and begin to join in with a random group of middle-aged men. At first, they were oblivious to the ex-assassin with the metal arm. But soon, he was being stared at.

“Yoo that dude has a metal arm! That’s sick!” 

“Is this legit? That’s awesome man!”  
“Can you move your fingers? Guys, look, it’s a real arm!”

Sam watched Bucky get showered with compliments, seeing him slip the device he was holding into his front pockets and he turned to spark conversation with the men.

“You guys wanna touch it?” Bucky asked the group, and instantly, he got surrounded and no longer could be seen by Sam.

The shorter man sighed to himself, pushing himself through the sea of random people trying to find Bucky. Even with the unique metal arm, there was no sign of his partner. 

Sam was glad that Bucky was getting praised for his arm, but it’s like he just left Sam in the dust to go with a group of people he didn’t even know. Plus, they were supposed to be on a mission, not running around like school kids on a playground.

After a couple of minutes of shoving people around and saying “excuse me” quietly to every person he had to push out of his way, Sam gave up and exited the big blob of people so he was on the outskirts near the bars. Observing all the people happily dancing, he thought back to all the times with Riley. Some nights, the two of them would go out and get so drunk that they’d had to call a cab back home. When they arrived, both of them would fall asleep almost instantly and wake up with the worst headaches but with a lot of good memories. Now, Sam was at a club again but wasn’t making any happy memories. In the corner of his eye, he could see the deserted bar, so he made his way to the counter and sat on a barstool. If Bucky was having some fun, Sam could too.

The bartender, who looked a couple of years older than Sam, swiveled around so he was looking directly at him. He looked clean, with the black slacks and white t-shirt he was wearing being pristine with no wrinkles.

“Hiya! What can I get for ya’?” The bartender beamed at Sam, who undoubtedly was not returning the happy look.

“Umm, I’ll take a couple shots of whiskey. Thanks.” He responded, giving a quick sly smile to the bartender who cheerfully grabbed a large container of whiskey from the shelf behind him, placed it on the waist-level counter, and proceeded to bend at his knees so he was low enough to the ground to grab four shot glasses from a cabinet below the counter. 

“Is four enough? You look like you’ve had a pretty rough night.” The bartender asked, turning his head to make eye contact with Sam, who returned it as he answered.

“I’ll have one more, thanks man.” 

The bartender grabbed one more shot glass, stood up, and made his way over to Sam. He placed each shot glass down next to each other and turned away to grab the bottle of whiskey. Returning with the container, he took his hand and used his palm to unscrew the cap, placing it next to him as he lifted it and poured whiskey into all five shot glasses.

When the bartender stepped away from Sam to help another customer, he grabbed a shot and downed the entire thing, shutting his eyes for a moment in ecstasy as the hard liquid made its way down his throat. He could feel the cold substance settling in his stomach as he reached to grab another shot glass and consumed that one, feeling the exact feeling of euphoria he was feeling just a second ago. All his anger at Bucky went away as his head began to feel fuzzy, and he grabbed the third shot and finished it off as fast as the others.

“Want another one?”

Sam turned his head towards the voice, it was a girl a couple of seats to the left with long, luscious blue hair. Though the neon-colored lights in the club were dim, he could see her sparkling green eyes smiling at him. She held a margarita glass with blue liquid inside.

“Sure, thanks.” Sam smirked back at the girl, who turned away to consume a small amount of her colorful drink. At the same time, Sam downed his third shot of the night. This time around, he wasn’t focused on the way the fluid slid down from his mouth to his stomach. Instead, his attention was on the way his head felt. The light amount of fuzziness overborne any amount of his other senses. 

Soon, the bartender was placing the sixth shot in front of Sam. Sam gave a thankful smile to the man who nodded, before walking away. 

“So what brings you here?” The long-haired woman shouted. Her elbows were resting on the bar counter, with her long, slender fingers intertwining one another. She was resting her cheek on the little surface her hands made, smiling over at Sam who had drunk another shot whilst looking at her.

“Bored, I guess. Needed something to do.” He answered, placing the fourth shot glass onto the counter.

“Well, want to go dance?” She responded, sitting upright on the barstool and finishing off the last remnants of her drink. Sam returned her gaze, giving a sly smile back. His mind was in no place to be dancing, but he couldn’t let her down.

“Sure. Why not?” He agreed, taking the last two shot glasses into either hand and drinking the contents of one, and then the other, practically slamming it onto the counter when he was finished. When he stood up out of the seat, his head spun. His vision was hazy, but that didn’t stop the man from putting on a giant, beaming smile and making his way to the dance floor with the random chick.

* * *

They started on the edge of the circle of people, with the woman taking Sam’s hand, leading him through the sea of people so they were in between hundreds of sweaty bodies. The two of them moved in sync with the beat, with Sam raising his arms getting into the blaring music. The people around them began to cheer at a drunk Sam, who didn’t know better except to continue to bop his body in tune with the loud instrumentals. His brain had one goal at that point in time - forget about everything. Forget about Bucky ditching you, forget about Riley, forget about Steve going back in time, forget forget _forget_ . For one second, for one moment in existence, Sam truly forgot _everything_. All his problems faded away with the beat drop in the music. Until he felt a cool hand wrap around his left upper arm.

“Sam! What are you doing?”

It was Bucky, who hadn’t let go of Sam. He was glaring into his partner’s eyes, not daring to break eye contact. The expression on his face was bleak, with no hint of joyfulness.

“Dude, I’m dancing! Come join me!” Sam shouted cheerfully at Bucky, who’s facial expression remained the same. Bucky grasped Sam tighter, leading the two of them away from all of the dancing, not bothering to say excuse me to anyone as he guided Sam away from all the other drunk people, shouting, and loud music. 

When Bucky let his grip on Sam loosen, they were outside of the club in a corner between a couple of other buildings.

“Sammy, what the fuck were you thinking?!” Bucky questioned, shouting at Sam out of anger. Sam, still drunk, rolled his eyes and began to laugh.

“What’s so funny? Huh? What’s so funny about you getting wasted on a mission?” Bucky asked, glaring at Sam with anger in his pupils. 

“ _You_ were the one who didn’t care about the mission.” Sam mumbled, seemingly under his breath, but loud enough that Bucky picked it up and grabbed him by his shoulders.

“ _I_ didn’t care about the mission? So why was _I_ trying to find our suspect while you were at the bar downing shots with some random blue haired freak?!” Bucky angrily defended himself, shaking Sam as he made his point.

“You were messing around with those dudes.” Sam objected, chuckling to himself because of the dizziness getting worse by the minute. Bucky shaking him roughly did nothing to help.

“I was sparking conversation to ask them if they’ve seen our suspect, Sam, not to make new friends or anything. Is that really why you’re drunk right now?” Bucky stopped shaking Sam as he concernedly asked his question, hands still on his shoulders but instead of gripping them, they were gently holding on.

“Only partly.” Sam admitted, which he only did because his brain had no filter due to the fact that the alcohol was coursing through his system.

“Sam, I’m not going to leave. You know that right?” Bucky asked, his gaze into Sam’s eyes no longer being full of anger, but full of concern and regret.

“Sure. Totally. You’re just gonna die on me, just like Riley.” Sam laughed at the despondent sentence whilst he lost the strength to stand and crumpled onto the ground, now sitting on his knees. Bucky, who was towering above him, then sat on his knees so he was level with Sam.

“I’ve been alive for a long time and I don’t plan on dying anytime soon.” Bucky responded, looking away for a moment to look at Sam's hands, which were shaking.

“Come on, birdman, let's get out of here.” 

Bucky stood up and put out his right hand, which Sam hesitated to take, but when Bucky broke the space between their hands, there were no words from Sam. The skin-to-skin contact sent goosebumps over Sam’s body due to the lack of touch the two had ever had. Bucky used his strength to pull Sam so he was standing on two feet, but as Bucky let him go, Sam’s legs gave out. Bucky, having a feeling this would happen, rushed to the man's side and wrapped his right arm around his waist, returning him to an upward stance.

“Sam, how much did you have to drink?” Bucky concernedly asked Sam, who answered with a laugh.

“Umm at least three”

A sigh escaped through Bucky’s lips, with him pulling the small device out of his pockets with his free left hand, typing and scrolling through some things before putting it up to his left ear.

“Hello? Hey Sharon, it’s Bucky…

yea no I’m good, but Sam here on the other hand…

no, he’s not hurt...look I’ll explain later, can you come get us?

Thanks.”

Bucky hung up the phone, slipped it back into the pocket it was previously in before, and just held Sam with one arm, occasionally looking over at the man who was spaced out. To say he was worried was an understatement. This was his new best friend, his partner, and to see him completely wasted because he left Sam alone for just a couple of minutes was terrifying. Was it anxiety? PTSD? A crush even? Bucky had no idea. 

And that was the scariest part.


	2. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So, Bucky, how did this…” Sharon signaled her eyes in the rearview mirror towards a sleeping Sam. “happen?” She asked, redirecting her eyes towards the road.  
> “I went to talk to a group of guys and next thing I know, I’m seeing him dancing with some chick on the dance floor and he’s wasted and Sharon, I feel terrible.” Bucky rambled with a sigh right after. 
> 
> OR
> 
> Bucky takes Sam to a safe house after the events of the club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi everyone! i'm so so excited to share this chapter with you. i was stuck on how i wanted everything to play out, but when i figured it out, everything wrote itself and i'm surprised i finished this part in under two weeks. it's a little longer then the first and the hurt/comfort is definitely there.  
> with that being said, here it is!!  
> thank you for reading and all the support!!

Sharon picked the two men up in a black Tesla. As Bucky placed a giggling Sam into the backseat, he observed the pristine interior. There was no sign the car had ever been used before, not even a speck of dirt was on the floor. Bucky brought his arm back to his side so it was no longer around Sam. Sam, sitting in the middle seat, couldn’t stop giggling. His face was pale, with his forehead coated in sweat. 

“Are you going to sit up here?” The driver asked as she turned her head towards the back seat, then to the passenger seat. Bucky was still standing outside the car and looking at Sam and how he looked like he was on the verge of throwing up everything he ingested throughout the day, he made his way into the car, gently shoving Sam towards the farther side.

“Nah, I’m gonna stay back here with this drunk rockhead. Just in case he causes any trouble.” Bucky answered as he slowly lunged himself towards the seat belt on Sam’s side, pulling it so it was across the man's chest and thighs. He fastened the tongue into the buckle and pulled it so it was tight around his companion.

“Are you two all good back there?” Sharon checked, this time observing the two through the rearview mirror.

“We are absolutely  _ amazing  _ back here, Miss Carter.” Sam laughed as Sharon began to drive. 

“Sam, do everyone a favor and shut up.” 

With Bucky’s words, Sam dramatically turned his head so he was looking out the window. He crossed his arms across his chest, furthering his hammy act. 

The drive was scenic. As they exited the brightly lit city, Bucky watched through the side mirror the pink and blue lights get dimmer and dimmer until they were driving through darkness.

Sam’s head was leaning against the window and his eyes were shut. His breathing made it seem like he was asleep. Bucky took a glance at him and felt horrible. He never intended to make Sam feel like he was being left out, they were on a mission, and blending in would help them with the mission. Facing the window, he watched the treetops move with the light gusts of wind. 

“So, Bucky, how did this…” Sharon signaled her eyes in the rearview mirror towards a sleeping Sam. “happen?” She asked, redirecting her eyes towards the road.

“I went to talk to a group of guys and next thing I know, I’m seeing him dancing with some chick on the dance floor and he’s  _ wasted  _ and Sharon, I feel terrible.” Bucky rambled with a sigh right after. He looked back at Sam again. His chest moved slightly with every involuntary breath he took in and exhale he let out. 

“Just be sure you talk to him when he wakes up.” Sharon responded, giving a small smile before going back to her monotone face. 

“I will...I just don’t know what to say.” Bucky continued as he stealthily watched Sharon’s facial expressions in the rearview mirror.

Her face was solemn, as she began to speak.

“I don’t think you need to have a whole speech planned out. What needs to be said, will be said, Bucky.”

Bucky nodded, taking yet another look at his partner.

“You’re right, thanks.” A slight smile washed over Bucky’s face, knowing that it would all be ok. 

* * *

When they arrived at the small safe house on the very outskirts of the city, Sharon asked Bucky if he needed any help bringing Sam inside.

“No, I think I got him. Thanks 

though. And thank you for everything tonight. I really appreciate it.” 

Sharon smiled as she unlocked the doors so Bucky could get out and make his way to the other side of the car. He opened the door and put an arm around Sam’s waist. When his hand connected with the front of his waist, there was a groan from Sam. 

“You ok man?” Bucky asked, with Sam giving another groan.

“I’ll take that as a no” 

Sam responded with a sly smile.

“I’m fine, man,  _ truly _ . I’m  _ vibing _ .” Sam laughed as the two of them made this way to the front door, slowly, but surely.

When they got there, Bucky turned around to wave goodbye to Sharon, who gave one back as she pulled out of the driveway. As she left, Bucky opened the door and led Sam inside.

The interior was beautiful compared to the exterior. The outside was a rusty brown color, blending in with the nature surrounding it. The inside, though, was bright white with shades of grey. To the left of the front door, there was a small kitchen with a mini-fridge, stove, sink, and some cabinets. An island in the middle of the kitchen made the room look more lively, even though it was a safe house and wasn’t supposed to be nice. In front of them was a grey couch, with a coffee table completing the living room look. There was a small 80s tv in the corner that was turned off, and not even plugged in. That earned a chuckle from Bucky, who trekked more into the connected rooms, shutting the front door behind him as he continued. He scanned the room more closely and saw there were two more doors, which he assumed led to a bedroom plus a bathroom.

“It’s hot in here.” Sam mumbled while observing the room, before slumping his head backward.

“And the door is upside down...whoa, everything is upside down.” Sam laughed to himself as he attempted to raise his arms, but the lack of strength from the fact that he was so drunk made it so his hands were light by his sides.

“Sam, want anything to eat?” Bucky asked as he led the two of them to the couch, placing Sam onto it and leaving him to sprawl out as a starfish would.

“Yes…. _ and _ no.” Sam answered as he looked to Bucky, who was standing a couple of feet away from the couch but in Sam’s line of vision.

“That isn’t an answer.” 

“How about….ummm….I don’t know…a shot of tequila.” 

Bucky rolled his eyes to Sam’s response, making his way to the kitchen where there was a loaf of bread and some Nutella on the island.

“No alcohol for you, Mr. I-Can’t-Walk-By-Myself-And-Got-Wasted-On-A-Mission. How about toast?” Bucky laughed to himself as he asked, earning a brief thumbs up from Sam as his arm went limp yet again.

Bucky unwrapped the package of already sliced bread and took out four pieces, popping two into the toaster and letting them toast for exactly two minutes.

“Mister Barnes...how do you like your toast?” Sam asked from across the room. The other man could tell he was exhausted from the way the words left his mouth, slurred and airy. There was no force put into them.

“Slightly burnt, why ask?” Bucky answered, keeping his eyes glued to the toast inside the toaster.

“You’re weird.” 

Bucky let out a small chuckle at Sam’s response, turning his head for a second to see if the man had changed positions. He was still spread out on the couch.

When the toast came out of the toaster, Bucky picked it up with his metal arm and studied it closely, seeing it had no signs of burning on it. He smiled to himself and held the individual piece while using his free hand to open a cabinet and grab two plates. When he placed the plates onto the counter, he put the two toasted pieces onto one.

“I smell bread!”

Sam’s shout had Bucky turning around to find the man stumbling over to the kitchen. In the blink of an eye, Bucky was in front of Sam, ready to catch him if he fell.

“I-I don’t need help, Bucky.” 

“Yes, you do. Let me help you, Sam.”

Sam responded with a heavy sigh, then practically fell into Bucky. 

“I got you, I got you.” was all that Bucky could say as his arms tightly enveloped themselves around Sam.

“Ok... maybe I do need help” Sam grumbled as Bucky helped him to his feet, keeping his arms tight around the shorter man until Sam was standing straight up. Even when Bucky unwrapped his arms, he kept a hand on Sam’s upper arm to steady him. 

“Come on Sam, you need to eat something.” 

Bucky led Sam to the counter and watched as Sam picked up a piece.

“Is there butter?” Sam looked at the plain toast in disappointment.

“No, but there’s Nutella” 

When Bucky said that, Sam’s face beamed. Bucky grabbed the Nutella which was behind him on an island. Turning around, he faced what looked to be a utensil drawer and opened it. Inside was a variation of knives, spoons, and forks. Pulling out a butter knife, Bucky unscrewed the jar of Nutella and dipped the butter knife inside, and pulled out a quarter-size glob of the delicious substance. He smeared the gooey hazelnut chocolate spread onto the toast, and pulled out another glob, spreading it on evenly as well. Before Bucky could get more, Sam grabbed it and took a small bite, then another. He took small bites until one piece was finished, and after Bucky coated the other piece in the delicious spread, Sam devoured the second.

“Damn, cyborg, you can make a mean piece of toast!” Sam stated as he licked the Nutella off his lips.

“I guess it’s one of my special talents.” Bucky laughed as he put the other two pieces into the toaster for two minutes and ten seconds.

Sam leaned against the counter and watched as Bucky’s toast popped out of the machine, and after a minute, Bucky took his left arm and picked up the dry toast and ate it.

“Dude...plain toast?"

“Yea, I don’t want to eat anything too heavy.”

“Why not?”

“Because if you throw up, then I will too.”

Sam rolled his eyes at Bucky and looked at the floor, his eyes drooping with every passing second. Bucky, seeing him, spoke up.

“You look like you’re going to fall asleep any second, c’mon”

Bucky took the man's wrist in his hand and led him to the two doors, opening one which revealed a bedroom. The bed was in the middle of the room, with grey bed sheets and pillowcases. The comforter covering it was identical to the rest of the bedding. The mattress sat on a metal frame, which looked to be queen-sized. 

There was a dresser to the right of the bed, which was up against the wall. The room was bare, which was expected. 

Sam yanked his arm so Bucky’s grasp on him broke and stumbled to the bed, and fell when he got close enough to land safely onto the comforter and fluffy pillows.

“Need anything?” Bucky asked as he watched Sam tangle himself within the blanket.

“No...I have everything I could ever need. A comfy bed, comfy pillows, and someone to be my big spoon.”

Bucky looked straight into Sam’s eyes as he registered what Sam had just said.

“Good night, Sam.” Bucky gave a light smile to the man as he turned away and made his way out the door.

“Goodnight, Bucky.” Sam responded, which made Bucky turn his head to see Sam smiling at him. 

As Bucky shut the door to the bedroom, he leaned his head gently on the door. Did Sam like him? Was he just so drunk, or was it just a joke? There was no way to find out since the only person who could tell him was on the other side of the door was most likely asleep. It wouldn’t be a bad thing if Sam had feelings. Yea, it might make missions a little more interesting, but it was nothing Bucky couldn’t handle.

* * *

The safe house was dark. The outside was dark as well. Everything was dark, and usually, Bucky could sleep easily in the dark, but tonight was an exception. He laid on the couch for hours like a tin man with his arms and hands across his chest. With every breath he took, his intertwined hands moved up, with every exhale they moved down. He was trying his best to focus on his breathing as that was something Sam told him would help him sleep at night when he was in Afghanistan. 

Sam. 

Now his mind was filled with Sam. Sam Wilson during the fight in Germany, Sam Wilson as they watched Steve go back in time, Sam Wilson everywhere, every time, every moment was replaying in Bucky’s head. 

And there was no way it was going to stop.

With that realization that the only way Bucky was going to ever fall asleep was if he talked about what was going on in his head, he stood up and slowly walked to the bedroom door. 

As he stood in front of the door. The hesitation he felt prevented him from opening the door, nevertheless knocking. He turned his back to the bedroom entrance and leaned his head back so it was resting on the door. 

His eyes slowly began to shut, but before they could completely close, the door opened. Bucky jumped up and faced a half-asleep Sam standing a couple of feet away holding the doorknob.

“Man, you good?” Sam asked as his arms stretched upwards, looking up at the ceiling as he did so.

“Umm, yeah, I was just going to see if I left something in here.” 

Sam stopped stretching and gazed at Bucky, giving him an ‘I-Know-That’s-Bullshit’ look. Bucky could see that his lie wasn’t fooling Sam.

Bucky shoved his way past Sam, their shoulders making contact as Bucky pretended to search the room, using nothing but his eyes to examine every corner.

“I’m not seeing it, sorry to wake you up, Sam.”

“I was already up, only for a couple minutes, don’t worry about it.”

“What do you mean you were already up? You took the comfy bed and weren’t sleeping?” 

“Hey, I was asleep for a little while. Plus, you’re gonna make the drunk man sleep on the couch?” 

Bucky laughed at Sam’s response, knowing that having a drunk person try to sleep on a couch will almost always lead to them rolling off.

“I’m feeling more grounded though. Like I can have an actual talk with someone and not spill my life story. I think the sleep helped” Sam admitted as he turned towards Bucky who was spaced out, staring at the floor.

“Bucky, for real, man, what’s up?”

Bucky was zapped out of his thoughts and turned towards a puzzled Sam, whose gaze of concern caught his eye instantly. 

“I...I’m sorry Sam.”

Sam let out a small sigh as he made his way closer to his mission partner.

“For what?” 

“For leaving you in the club...I feel guilty, Sam, I was the reason you got drunk and all fucked up and I should’ve stayed by your side.”

As Bucky apologized, Sam walked closer to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m not mad anymore, Bucky, you were trying to get the mission done faster and I would’ve done the same thing if I came up with the idea.”

“But Sam, I just left you all alone. That’s fucked up of me and I sho-” 

Sam interrupted Bucky by taking Bucky into his arms and rubbing circles in the space between his shoulder blades.

“Again, I’m not mad at you.  _ I promise...I’m not mad anymore _ .”

Hearing the reassurance had water forming in Bucky’s eyes. He  _ wasn’t  _ mad. Not anymore at least. That mattered to the ex-assassin more than anything.

“Thank you, Sam, I just needed to know that.”

By the time Bucky had finished his response, the emotions he was holding back were flooding down his face. Sam, noticing the sudden wetness on his shirt, held his companion even tighter in his arms, letting Bucky have all his feelings come out in the form of tears. Soon, sobs were escaping his mouth. It seems like everything he had ever experienced was happening at once, the emotional pain he endured over the decades was now coming back. But there was something different this time around. 

Sam.

Sam didn’t let go of Bucky, not even when the wretched sobs escaped through his lips in a way that neither of them had ever seen before. It was agonizing for Sam to see one of his best friends in pain. There was nothing he could do except just hold him and let the feelings that were overflowing him get lighter until there was no more. 

Seeing there was not going to be an end to the crying soon, Sam led Bucky to the bed and aided him in laying down, and was soon being covered by the heavy comforter.

“S-Sam?”

“Yea, Bucky?”   
“Stay with me?”

Sam nodded and climbed into the bed next to him, turning so he was facing the other man, who was staring at the ceiling as he continued to cry. Bucky was laying in the tin man position as he was when he was trying to fall asleep earlier, with his hands on his chest, but this time not intertwined. Sam took a hand and placed it over Bucky’s that wasn’t metal. With that, Sam used a finger to draw small circles on the back of Bucky’s hand.

“Sam?”

“Hm?”

“Can I move closer?”

Sam nodded and Bucky scooted closer to Sam until their bodies were practically touching. By now, Bucky’s sobs had reduced and the tears were becoming less heavy. Sam continued to gently draw random shapes in an attempt to pull Bucky out of the headspace he was in. 

A couple of minutes later, there were no tears or sobs coming from Bucky Barnes. Even though Sam noticed this, he still continued the invisible distraction.

“Sam, you drew so many circles. I stopped counting at 29.” Bucky let out a small chuckle, earning a smile from Sam as he switched from doing pentagons to circles again.

“I’m alright now, you can stop.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

With Bucky’s approval, Sam stopped drawing shapes and instead placed his entire hand over Bucky’s. 

“What are you doing?”

“I just...the reason I got so drunk wasn’t just because you left me. I think…” Sam stopped for a moment, taking an inhale.

“I think I need you.”

Bucky turned so he was facing Sam who was looking at the ceiling.

“Sam, you know I need you too, right? Why do you think we make such good partners?” 

There was a smile from Sam, and with that, he took his fingers and latched them underneath Bucky’s hand so he was holding it halfway.

“It’s not just the way we make a good team, cyborg. Ever since Germany, there’s just been something that seems unresolved.” 

“What is it?”

“Bucky… I think I have feelings for you. The way I had feelings for Riley.”

Sam swiveled his head so he and Bucky were making eye contact.

“When I lost Riley, it was like I lost another half of myself. It fucked me up so bad, Bucky, and if the same thing happened to you, I don’t know what I’d do.”

As Sam finished his sentence, Bucky pulled back his hand that was being covered by Sam’s and moved it so it was now on top, and he took Sam’s hand in the same way that Sam was previously holding it.

“Earlier, you were talking about how something would’ve happened to me and I could’ve died like Riley did. And I told you that’s not gonna happen, and I stand by that. I’m right here Sam, I’m not dying, and I think I have feelings for you too.”

A smile washed across Bucky’s face, and then Sam’s as the two fell asleep with their hands enclosed in one another’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos are always so so appreciated! thank you for reading

**Author's Note:**

> i will be adding another chapter as soon as it's finished  
> again leave kudos & comment any thoughts you may have. thank you for reading!!


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